


Best Served Cold

by Mooncatx



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amelie hot for Moira, Blackwatch Moira O'Deorain, F/F, Femslash, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Talon Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 20:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20364700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mooncatx/pseuds/Mooncatx
Summary: Some Amelie Lacroix / Moira O'Deorain smut





	Best Served Cold

Best Served Cold

Amelie entered the bar in a seething rage. Gerard had finally gone too far. He’d sent in her resignation to the Paris Ballet Company behind her back when they’d been away for vacation. She hadn’t had time to do damage control. By the time she’d found out, the head of the Company had already replaced her for the lead of the upcoming premiere of Nocturne, the new ballet that would open in the recently renovated  _ Palais Garnier.  _ How could he? She’d kept up her exercise regime and practiced even while on vacation, and had been so excited… How could he?

She had stormed out of their rental home in Zurich where Gerard was finalizing his acceptance as director of Anti-Talon operations at the Swiss Overwatch headquarters. That self centered, entitled piece of  _ merde _ ! Her eyes glittered with the tears she refused to shed. She loved her husband, but his high handed actions took no account of her feelings or well being. He believed his career came first, and if he would be stationed in Rome, then so too his wife would live in Rome with him, instead of Paris where her career as a leading solo danseuse in the Paris Ballet Company. He hadn’t even asked her. He’d simply destroyed her life without so much as an apology. 

She would not cry. She would not! If only this burning pain in her chest would grow cold and numb. It… hurt. It hurt so much! She was blinded by her emotions, and didn’t see the taller, slender form she crashed into, only felt the lean strength of the arms that steadied them both and kept them from falling into an embarrassing heap on the floor. When her vision cleared, Amelie first noticed the short, flame red hair slicked back in an elegant sweep, then the surprised gaze of two different colored eyes. One eye was a shocking bright blue, and the other was a russet shade of brown that seemed nearly red. Set in a sharp boned, aristocratic face. 

“Forgive me!” Amelie forced out, mortified, “I’m a total klutz, I’m so sorry for smashing into you like a runaway train.”

“No great harm done.” the other woman’s voice was smooth, like whiskey, with a rich Irish lilt. 

To her shame, Amelie felt the sound of that voice go right through her, pooling like heat low in core. Oh no… not now! Amelie’s libido had always been tied to her emotions. Extreme, passionate emotions thrust her into heat, and that is what had kept her marriage to Gerard from foundering sooner. He’d enrage her, then sate her till awash with sexual endorphines, her anger would settle and he would win his way. Only tonight she hadn’t allowed him to do it to her again. She was too angry to let Gerard touch her. She didn’t want Gerard. But… despite her best intentions… She still wanted. Deeply, with an incandescent need that bloomed in her intimate core.

“Is there…  _ anything  _ I could do, to make this up to you?” She heard the caressing innuendo in her own voice, and would have closed her eyes in mortification if the sudden interest in the other woman’s blue and red eyes hadn’t suddenly speared her in place, leaving a fine tremble of hunger thrumming through her. The other woman had obviously read the unspoken offer of Amelie’s lithe and limber flesh. Read, and considered, and accepted in the space of a heart beat.

“Why… yes. Yes there is something you could help me with, if you are willing. I’m new in Zurich and just settling into the apartment my work has provided me. I fear it’s terribly spartan, just bare basic furniture. Perhaps you could look it over with me and help me decide how to make it… more lived in.”

“How spartan?” Amelie asked, intrigued. 

“Sofa and chairs in the living room area. Kitchen and chairs in the dining nook. A thankfully large bed, considering my rather stretched out height, but nothing more than that. I have my small amount of things still in boxes. My work takes me all over, I didn’t have the heart to unpack so quickly after arriving here a few days ago. I think a guest would help me feel… more rooted here?” 

Amelie didn’t hesitate. Damn Gerard to hell and back. She left with the other woman without even knowing her name yet. Names weren’t important at the moment. She would learn her new companion’s name later. After. For now all she wanted to hear was the deep throated cries of passion torn from both their bodies. She wanted to taste the richness of this woman’s body till it tensed in unbearable, exquisite pleasure, and came for her in drenching waterfalls. She wanted to ride the Irish lilt of this woman’s tongue till her core clenched and flooded her new lover with Amelie’s ecstasy. 

To be continued.


End file.
